Clean Slate
by AislingK
Summary: Tim can't quite forgive himself for past mistakes, leading to an overzealous attempt to find redemption. Follow-up to my story Five Minutes. Warning: Contains the spanking of an adult.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Clean Slate

**Disclaimer**: These characters belong to Donald Bellisario, and I hope he won't mind that I continue to borrow them for my own amusement. The story is not connected to any particular episode or storyline from NCIS.

**Warning**: This story contains the **corporal punishment** of an adult. If that's not your thing, it would be best if you didn't read it, or at least that you refrain from telling me about it.

* * *

_A/N: This story is set several weeks after my story Five Minutes. Reading that story first might be helpful to understand the context and Tim's mindset, but it should be possible to follow and enjoy this story in its own right if you don't._

_Special thanks to sasha1600 for her encouraging words._

* * *

Tim was comparing the details on a couple of personnel files when Gibbs hung up the phone and addressed his agents. "There was another attack at the base last night. A cashier at the commissary was assaulted when she got off her shift."

"That's the third one in ten days," Tim offered.

"I _know_ that, McGee." Gibbs snapped. "So why don't you stop staring into space and go see if Abby's found anything on the cafeteria worker's clothes." Tim winced at the rebuke while his boss turned to his partner. "DiNozzo, call the Personnel office on base and get them to fax over all the information they've got on the clerk." Gibbs strode off before anyone could ask where he was going.

"Tony?"

DiNozzo replaced the phone receiver that he'd just picked up. "Yeah?"

"Um, well, I was just wondering…does Gibbs sound mad to you?"

Tony looked at Tim incredulously. "It's _Gibbs_. He always sounds mad."

"Yeah, but do you think he sounds particularly angry today? At me, I mean?"

"Why, McFreak-Out? Did you do something to make him that way?" Tony suddenly seemed interested in McGee's panic.

"No, I haven't _done anything_ to make him mad at me, Tony. He just seems sort of…gruff…lately."

Tony looked at Tim like he'd just pointed out that dogs have tails. "Um, yeah, McGee. Welcome to NCIS – can I show you around the place or would you like to get your desk set up first?"

Tim grimaced at Tony's sarcasm. "No, you're right. Of course it's just Gibbs. It's probably just the case getting under his skin." Three civilian females working on the base at Norfolk had been sexually assaulted, and so far they had no leads. That would make anyone edgy. Still, Tim replayed his boss's voice in his mind as he headed for Abby's lab – was the sharp tone just quintessential Gibbs, or was he right to be concerned? It was true that their supervisor was never really friendly when directing his agents; hell, he wasn't even professionally courteous, at least by any normal workplace standards. And Tim was used to that mode of communication by now, and had learned not to take it personally.

Well, maybe he didn't take it quite as impersonally as the others seemed to be able to do. Tony treated Gibbs a bit like a cartoon character, and Ziva seemed to thrive on the military nature of their boss. Only Tim had a hard time separating emotions from business. Still, for the most part Tim really did know that Gibbs wasn't angry when he barked orders – the former Marine was just an extremely focused and driven man who didn't see the need to slow things down with superfluous pleasantries or praise. Tim could appreciate that sort of single-minded efficiency, and he also recognized that being brusquely ordered around by Gibbs meant that he was part of the team. If Gibbs didn't like someone then at best he ignored them completely, and at worst he forcibly removed them from his path. Tim had completely analyzed Gibbs' behavior. Except that had been B.L.I. – Before the Lying Incident. Ever since he'd lied to Gibbs, Tim felt like all the rules had changed, and he wasn't sure what the new ones were. Tony might call him Probie as a joke, but it was a pretty accurate description of how he felt these days around their boss.

From a purely rational standpoint, Tim knew that he should have been able to put the Lying Incident behind him. He'd screwed up, sure, and he'd broken his boss's trust. But he'd confessed, and Gibbs had punished him for it. Hard. Tim's stomach flipped as he recalled the whipping – not just the pain, but the incredible vulnerability he'd felt in front of his mentor. Weeks after the fact he still couldn't remember the incident without feeling embarrassed and ashamed at the memory of disappointing Gibbs. He'd been an idiot. He'd behaved like a child and his relationship with his leader was damaged forever.

Tim could still hear Gibbs reassuring him after the punishment was over. "I do trust you, son," Gibbs had said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, letting the young man know that the spanking had erased the misdemeanor in his mind. Things were so clear to Gibbs – there were actions and consequences, and if you accepted the consequences of a mistake, then there was no need to dwell on it any further. Tim desperately wanted to be like that, but he just didn't see how. Maybe that worked in the military – he could see how ineffective a Marine unit would be if everyone was mentally stewing over their last missed target or faltering in the field. But not everything in life was so straightforward. It was like cheating in a relationship – if your partner slept with someone else, then you might say that you forgave them, and you might even want to, but would you really ever completely trust them again? Could you really ever forget what they'd done? Tim was pretty sure that some things never got completely erased, and he knew that there would be a permanent scar on his image in Gibbs' mind. If he screwed up one more time, that would be the end of his relationship with Gibbs, professional and otherwise. So it was of the utmost importance that he never let down his boss again. Whatever it took, Tim would not disappoint Gibbs again. Ever.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, McGee!" Abby welcomed him cheerfully. Tim felt instantly calmer. Things always seemed like they made sense around Abby.

"Gibbs sent me. He wants to know if you've got results back from the clothes."

"I'm still trying, but there's nothing so far – no DNA from anyone but the victim. But some of the other evidence makes it pretty likely that both crimes were committed by the same person."

"All three crimes."

"Three?"

"A worker at the commissary was attacked. Gibbs got the call about five minutes ago. He's pretty fired up."

"And why shouldn't I be, McGee?"

Tim flinched slightly at the sound of Gibbs' voice behind him and he turned around. His supervisor was followed by Tony and Ziva. Before he could respond to Gibbs' comment, he was pre-empted by Ziva.

"I have surveillance tapes from the commissary, Abby. You will need to observe them for anomalies."

"Sure," Abby replied. "Am I looking for anyone or anything in particular?"

"None of the victims saw their attacker's face," Tony supplied unhelpfully. "He was always wearing a mask."

"There is…scuttlebutt." Ziva suggested. "I spoke to many officers around the base, and there are…rumors."

"What kind of rumors?" Their boss prompted.

"A petty officer – Shane Haskell. Many people I spoke with had heard that he raped someone when he was in high school – a girl who worked at a Dairy Queen near his hometown. I could not find the source of this gossip – it had spread too far by the time I arrived. His whereabouts cannot be verified for the times of the attack, but this is not necessarily suspicious. It is not unusual for Haskell to spend time alone in the evenings."

"Can we validate the rumor?" Gibbs asked.

"I have not had time to fully investigate. But the personnel office told me that he enlisted after completing two years of college and that he had received only a GED before that. Petty Officer Haskell is 23, so there is time which is not accounted for in his past."

"You think he was in juvie?" Tony asked.

"It is possible."

"McGee, get into it. Find out who this Haskell is and what he may or may not have done in his past," Gibbs directed. To Tony and Ziva he said, "You two get back to Norfolk and keep probing. I'm not running my entire investigation on the basis of scuttlebutt."

"Yes, Boss." Tony and Ziva headed off purposefully.

"You waiting for something, McGee?" Gibbs asked curtly.

Tim wasn't sure why he hadn't left immediately with the others, but he just felt anxious around Gibbs these days. Part of him wanted to be out of the range of his boss's stern gaze, but the other part of him wanted to stay and wait for some kind of reassurance that he understood his task correctly and was doing the right thing.

"No, Boss. I'll find out everything I can on Haskell. I can look into the three victims too and see if there are any connections to each other, or maybe to Haskell, or both. And if Abby needs help with the surveillance tapes, I can definitely take some of the footage and go over it…"

"McGee! How about you do the one task I asked you to do, instead of standing around talking about the ones I didn't?"

"Right. Sorry. I just thought it might be helpful if –"

"What would be _helpful_ would be you doing your job before another woman is raped!"

Tim scurried off feeling sheepish and embarrassed. He'd just wanted to make sure that Gibbs knew how committed he was to solving the case. Instead Gibbs thought he was trying to evade his responsibilities. He'd have to go beyond the call of duty in his research on Haskell – really dig beneath the surface. And he would get the work done extra quickly, so that he'd be able to help with the other aspects of the investigation. Anything that would make Gibbs know how dedicated he was to the team.

* * *

The idea came to him while he was piecing together Haskell's past. It was looking like there was substance to the rumors, but McGee couldn't get any direct confirmation because he wasn't allowed to access the petty officer's juvenile records. According to Legal, if records did exist they could only be unsealed on the order of a judge in a trial, and certainly not on the basis of random scuttlebutt uncovered as part of an investigation. So Tim was trying to verify the story through any roundabout means he could think of. His desk was covered with faxed school records, printouts of old newspaper articles, personnel files. Surrounded by the endless pieces of his suspect's life, Tim had a brainstorm. He could create a database full of all sorts of personal and historical details of the officer's life before he entered the military. And not just about Haskell, either. He started to have a vision of a giant database, with extensive background information on all base personnel, stuff that no one would normally think to assemble in one place. A profiling super-database.

"What have you got for me, McGee?" His boss's voice broke into Tim's racing thoughts.

"Haskell's profile looks like it fits the crime, but I'm still working on confirming the rumor that Ziva heard. I've got a call in to his high school guidance counselor, and I'm trying to track down this childhood friend of his who's mentioned in some of these old records…"

"McGee, we're running a criminal investigation here, not planning an alumni reunion."

"Right, no, I know that. But I've been thinking that all this information could be really useful, I mean, not just for Haskell, but for other people, in other cases."

"What other cases? Was there another attack?"

"No, just the ones we've got. Not that that's not enough, I mean. But all this background information – school records, files from foster care programs, yearbook photos, lists of GED recipients, well, it could really give us a good picture of someone's history, and if we had it all compiled in one place, then we could access profiles really quickly, whenever we needed it."

"McGee, you need to be finding a way to get me the culprit in THIS investigation before a fourth woman is raped. I need to know if it's Haskell, and if it's not then I need you to find me who it is!"

"Right, of course Boss, sure. I'm doing that. This other project, the database, that's not going to interfere at all with my work on the current investigation, I promise."

"It's your _job_ to work on this investigation, McGee, so I don't need you _promising_ me that you'll do it. I _assume_ that you will, if you want it to continue to be your job." Gibbs spoke sharply. "I want this case closed, and I don't want you working on any damn database!"

Tim felt a bit shaken as his boss left the room, but realized that his resolve to impress Gibbs had only been strengthened by the reprimand. He'd redouble his efforts to pin down Haskell's profile, and on the off-hours he'd start working on the database project. Nothing he would do would compromise his work on their open case, and Gibbs would see the value of the database once it was completed and they needed to access it for some future crime. It was a lot to accomplish, but Tim knew that it be worth it in the end, just to know that Gibbs would be able to rely on his work. Once it was up and running, Gibbs wouldn't remember that he'd ever asked McGee to abandon the project. And even if he did remember, Tim was very clear that he hadn't actually been forbidden to do it – Gibbs might not have wanted him doing this, but that was only because he didn't want to lose Haskell. There hadn't been an order, so Tim wouldn't technically be disobeying his superior. Satisfied with his rationalization, Tim set his mind to the immense task ahead of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim hadn't felt so energized in a long time. Ideas for the database were constantly popping into his head, and while he worked on the Haskell investigation he kept open a window on his computer to jot down his stray thoughts. Tim knew that his first priority was to solve this case, and he was working tirelessly at that, but he didn't want to lose the momentum on his secret project. Gibbs had him mostly working the case from the office – running computer data and making phone calls – while Tony and Ziva were on the base, so it was easy to fit in the extra-curricular activity whenever he was waiting for someone to get back to him or there was a lull in his official duties. He stayed at his desk until 9 P.M. and then took his laptop to a late-night coffee shop to make a bit more progress with the aid of some espresso. It was 3 A.M. when Tim finally made it to bed for a couple of hours of sleep, and he set an alarm for 5:30 to take advantage of the extra time he'd have before going in to the office.

Tim was tired when he set out for work, but with a couple of lattes he knew he'd be fine. Gibbs was already at his desk when Tim arrived, demanding to see one of the files McGee had retrieved on the previous day. He easily found what Gibbs wanted in a stack of papers, and was pleased that his boss took the folder from him without a rebuke of any kind.

Tim spent the rest of the morning looking at surveillance footage with Abby.

"You OK?" Abby asked McGee as she brought him a second Caf-Pow.

Tim hadn't realized that he was starting to drift off. He shook his head to wake himself up and accepted the drink.

"Yeah – this stuff is just so boring. I don't think we're going to find anything on it. Haskell, or whoever it was, probably waited for the cashier outside. There's no reason to believe he was ever even in the store."

"Agreed. But we'll never hear the end of it from Gibbs if we don't watch the whole thing." She put her feet up and pressed play to resume the video. Tim resolved himself to concentrate on the screen. It would not do well to have Gibbs walk in just as he was falling asleep.

It was easier to stay awake in the afternoon, when Gibbs had him running in and out of the office following evidence trails. When he was finally off duty, his second wind kicked in and he eagerly set himself up on the couch at home with his laptop, some Chinese food and a fresh pot of coffee. Tim knew that he should be going to bed, but the challenge of having a project to work on, and a clandestine one at that, was invigorating. Plus the harder he worked on it now, the sooner it would be done. And once he'd presented the finished product to Gibbs he'd be able to relax.

Tim wasn't entirely sure when he'd dozed off, but his computer was still humming on his lap when he awoke fully dressed on his couch. He knew he'd seen 4:00 come and go on the screen before falling asleep. He hoped that a shower and some caffeine would get him functioning.

Upon arriving at work Tim was relieved to find out that Gibbs would be conducting interviews on the base for most of the day, and that Ziva and Tony would be in the field as well. He'd be alone, and that meant that he could concentrate on his official and unofficial tasks without interruption. Tim found that he was actually excited for the quiet and the solitude, and he threw himself back into his work.

* * *

Tim lost all sense of time when he was obsessed like this. He knew the late afternoon cleaning crew had done their rounds, but otherwise he had no awareness of the hours passing. Five tall paper coffee cups stood on his desk, the one nearest his hand still half full. He was staring intently at a line in his program when the senior agent entered the room unnoticed.

"What the hell…" Gibbs' voice startled McGee and his whole body jerked.

"Boss! I didn't hear you come in. I'm just working on this thing, this project, but it can wait, are we going now?" The words just streamed uncontrollably out of Tim's mouth.

"What project, McGee?"

"Just a side project, nothing that can't wait. How did the interviews go? Are Tony and Ziva still on the base? I finished running that simulation you asked me to try; I've got the printout here somewhere..." McGee pulled open his desk drawer, but Gibbs reached over and slammed it shut. His eyes darkened as he stared down at Tim.

"Are you working on the database project that you proposed to me the other day?"

McGee didn't reply.

"Agent McGee, I asked you a question."

"Boss, I was just fooling around with some stuff. It's not really exactly what I would call a database, it's more of a, well, a compilation of facts, just sort of a compendium of information that could be useful if looked at in a certain way…" Tim was both exhausted and highly caffeinated, but implications of the look on Gibbs' face were sinking in enough for him to realize that he was digging himself a very deep hole.

Gibbs cut him off. "If you think that a _semantic_ argument is going to hide the fact that you defied my direct orders, then you are sadly mistaken. Frankly, I'm shocked and disappointed that you and I even need to have such a conversation. I should have thought that the importance of trust and honesty had been firmly impressed upon you recently. I guess I was wrong."

McGee started to feel panicky. Everything was going awry. He'd wanted Gibbs to be proud of this project when it was finally done, and instead he was being accused of deceit. "Boss, please, let me explain…"

"Believe me, you'll be explaining yourself later. But right now I need to get down to the base before Haskell gets off duty."

"Right. OK. Let's do that." Tim reached to get his gun from the desk drawer.

"You're not going anywhere, McGee. You'll stay here until I get back, and you will not spend the time working on your computer program."

"Please, Gibbs, let me help you take down this guy." McGee knew he sounded pathetic, but he thought that if Gibbs would just see him in action at work, he could redeem himself and maybe later the fact that he'd been working on the database project wouldn't seem like such a big deal.

"Hold out your hand."

Tim's eyes got big at the thought that Gibbs was going to strap him, as he'd done once before. Gibbs wasn't reaching for his belt, though, or for any other likely instrument. As scared as he was, McGee didn't want to anger Gibbs any further, and he tentatively held out his hand.

Gibbs picked up one of the empty coffee cups and placed it on Tim's upturned palm. The cup trembled visibly, and try as he might, Tim could not steady his hand enough to stop the cup's shaking. It toppled to the desk.

"You're no good to me like this, Tim. You're completely wired on caffeine and adrenaline, and I'm betting that you haven't slept in days. I don't know what you were thinking, but you're useless as a field agent right now. I can't have you carrying a weapon in this state. You're delirious and so jittery that you can barely see straight. The best thing you can do right now is to go settle yourself down in the conference room, and maybe you'll be in a better frame of mind when I return." Gibbs headed for the door.

Tim suddenly felt a wave of angry frustration come over him.

"Whatever."

Only when Gibbs stopped in his tracks did it register with Tim that his emotional reaction had been uttered out loud. His boss returned and leaned menacingly over McGee's desk.

"I beg your pardon?"

Tim looked away. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Only the fact that I know you haven't slept in three days and don't really know what you're saying is keeping me from kicking your ass right now."

"I don't need any favors," Tim muttered.

"Oh yes you do, McGee. And clearly you're in no state to be left alone, either. So get on your feet, and if you're smart you'll keep your mouth shut too. Let's go."

Gibbs didn't speak as he led them outside to his parked car, and Tim followed behind miserably. Getting in the car, Tim had not even managed to buckle his seatbelt before Gibbs gunned the engine and they were roaring off towards the base.

Since Gibbs had just made it clear that he didn't think McGee was in any shape to be working the case, Tim wasn't sure why his supervisor had brought him along, but he knew better than to ask. And even though Gibbs was driving like they were in a NASCAR race, Tim was starting to feel the effects of his exhaustion. The coffee was wearing off, and the adrenaline rush was gone. His eyelids were drifting shut and his head felt so heavy. He laid his head back against the seat and swallowed the bile in his mouth. How had he gotten himself here? It had been such a good plan. Tim tried to identify where he'd gone wrong, what he should have done differently, but he couldn't make the thoughts come. He closed his eyes and let the pounding in his head take over.

Tim was only vaguely aware that they had arrived at the base. "Out of the car," Gibbs ordered. Tim fumbled to undo the seatbelt and open the car door. By the time he was on his feet Gibbs was 20 feet ahead of him, and Tim had no choice but to assume he should follow. His boss strode ahead past numerous buildings until stopping in front of a door and indicating that McGee should enter. Opening the door, Tim found himself in the infirmary. All the cots were empty, and a medical officer looked surprised at the unexpected late visitors.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." His boss flashed his badge and continued. "This is Special Agent Timothy McGee, and he's here to take a nap." Even in his fatigued state Tim was alert enough to cringe at this humiliating introduction. "I'll be back for him in the morning, and if he gives you any trouble you have my permission to forcibly restrain and sedate him."

The officer appeared a bit bewildered but nodded in response to Gibbs' commanding tone. Tim looked back and forth between the men, but when he saw his supervisor's eyes narrow, he knew it was a lost cause and lay down on the nearest cot. Gibbs exited the room, and despite a hazy sense that he should stay awake and analyze the situation, Tim swiftly drifted into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Tim was lying flat on his back when his eyes first opened. It took him a second to figure out where he was – he was still in his clothes with his shoes on, there was light streaming through the window, and he felt like a truck had run over him. He seemed to remember saying "Whatever" with the attitude of a surly teenager. Who would he have said that to? He groaned audibly at the sudden awareness that the recipient of his juvenile impertinence had been Gibbs.

"A bit like a hangover, isn't it?"

Tim jumped at the sound of his boss's voice. He hadn't realized that he wasn't alone. Gibbs was leaning casually against the door, and the medical officer was gone. Tim scrambled to his feet.

"Boss, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"You slept?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Both men were silent for a few moments. The first thought that occurred to Tim was that he couldn't escape because Gibbs was standing in the doorway. The absurd mental image of him trying to actually make a break for it ran through his head, and he laughed softly.

"Something funny, McGee?"

"No, Boss."

"I didn't think so."

Tim wished that Gibbs would just say whatever it was that he needed to say, and then at least it would be over and done with. The magnitude of his screw-up was beginning to dawn on him. Whatever probationary terms he'd been on since the Lying Incident, he'd clearly violated the conditions. Tim was appalled at his own behavior, and he understood why Gibbs would need to deal with him harshly. Maybe if he was lucky he'd just be reassigned to some sort of desk duty, and not fired altogether.

It didn't appear that Gibbs was going to initiate the conversation, and Tim finally couldn't stand the silence.

"Boss, I know you don't like apologies, so let me just say that I know I don't deserve to be on your team anymore, and I accept that."

Gibbs observed his agent coolly before replying. "What kind of crap is that, McGee?"

Tim was a bit confused, but he willed himself to continue. "I know you can't trust me anymore. First the lying, and now this…I know from where you are it looks like I disobeyed your orders, and I understand that you can't work with someone like that."

"What about from where you are?"

"Hunh?"

"From your perspective, did you disobey my orders, McGee?"

Tim looked at the floor. "I don't think that really matters anymore."

"I'll decide what matters here, Tim. I believe that I was very clear that I did not want you to work on the database project."

"You were, Boss."

"Then exactly how were you not disobeying my orders when you chose to work on it anyways?"

McGee took a deep breath. There wasn't really anything to lose here anymore.

"You were very clear on the fact that you didn't _want_ me to work on the database. But you didn't actually order me not to. And I was doing it on my own time. It wasn't supposed to interfere with my regular work."

"Except that it did."

"Yeah."

"And yet you kept on working on it."

Tim didn't reply.

"Semantics aside, McGee, I think you knew very well that you were defying me by working on this project. And I'd like to know why."

Aware of how ironic this was going to sound, Tim tried to tell the truth. "I wanted to prove myself to you," Tim started. "I wanted to earn back your respect. I thought when the project was complete you'd see that I was worth something, and you'd know that you could trust me."

There was a pause before Gibbs spoke.

"I already knew that, Tim."

"You knew that once. But I know I made it hard for you to trust me after I lied to you, and all I've cared about since then is making sure you know that I'll never, ever screw up again. I've been working so hard to make sure that you could see that, and I know that it backfired, but I only wanted to make myself worthy in your eyes. I was never trying to deceive you."

Tim glanced up at his boss with a look of desperation. He understood why Gibbs would need to fire him, but he really couldn't bear the burden of having disappointed his mentor once again. What he saw in Gibbs' eyes perplexed him, though. Instead of anger, he thought that he saw a hint of a smile, but it was gone before Tim could be sure it had been real.

"Give me your belt, Tim."

"Why?"

Gibbs looked at him knowingly.

"No, I mean, I know why, but well, is there something wrong with yours?"

Gibbs laughed out loud at that. "There's nothing wrong with my belt, McGee. But you've been punishing yourself since I last whipped you, so it seems only appropriate that I use yours this time."

Tim was so confused. "I haven't been punishing myself. All I've been doing is working. Harder than I've ever worked before." Where the hell would he have found the time and energy to punish himself, when every fiber of his being was going towards impressing his boss? Why couldn't Gibbs see that?

"Tim, do you know why I punish people the way I do?" Gibbs' tone was kind.

"Because it hurts a lot?" Tim replied earnestly.

Gibbs grinned. "Yes, there is that." He continued seriously, "But that's not really the reason. A spanking makes its point hard and fast, and then it's over. There's a clearly defined end to the punishment, and that gives both people a clean slate in order to move on. But you don't seem to have absorbed that last part."

"So I'm supposed to just forget what I did? And I'm supposed to believe that you'll forget what I did?"

"No, of course we don't forget. If you forget what you did then you haven't learned from it. But people screw up, McGee. What matters is how they deal with it afterwards. You need to stop defining yourself by your mistakes, and you need to allow other people to forgive you."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You can. But you haven't given yourself that chance. You've been punishing yourself mentally ever since I did it physically."

"So now you're going to punish me for punishing myself?"

"No, Tim. I'm going to spank you for letting yourself get into such a destructive headspace that you haven't been able to make rational decisions. In this job that leads to endangering the lives of your partners and yourself. Last night you were ready to carry a weapon just to prove to me that you weren't incapacitated, which you were. That was reckless and stupid. And all of this has been in the name of impressing me, when I didn't need to be impressed."

"I didn't mean to put anyone else in danger."

"I know you didn't. But you were so far gone that you couldn't even tell that's what you were doing. And, I might add, you putting yourself in danger is just as unacceptable to me as you putting someone else at risk."

"It wasn't that bad."

"It was. So hand over your belt, and let's take care of this."

Tim unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from its loops and stood there holding it dumbly for a moment. Gibbs reached over and gently took the belt out of Tim's hands.

"Whenever you're ready, Tim."

Tim swallowed as he realized that Gibbs wanted him to voluntarily put himself in position to be whipped. Not that he'd ever really been physically forced into it before, but having Gibbs tell him exactly what to do usually made it easier for Tim to submit. There were no words this time, but Tim recognized that his choice was just as clear as always. He walked over to the wall and planted his feet just wider than his shoulders, then bent over to brace himself with his hands.

Maybe it was the fact that it was so early in the morning and he'd just woken up, but the first lash hurt so much more than he remembered it hurting the last time. He cried out instinctively when it landed. Regaining his composure, Tim concentrated on silencing his emotions, but every few strokes a gasp came involuntarily. His breath was ragged with the effort of not sobbing when Gibbs finally stopped. Tim started to push himself up, but Gibbs rested his hand on the young man's back.

"Stay where you are."

Tim was puzzled, but he obeyed.

"Do you think that's enough?" Gibbs asked him.

Tim didn't understand. Enough so that he wouldn't be able to sit down properly? Enough so that he wouldn't disobey Gibbs' orders again?

"Enough for what?" Tim managed to croak.

"Enough so that you'll let me trust you again."

Tim felt the tears welling up in his eyes and he thought he might choke on the lump in his throat. How could this man whom he admired so deeply be asking for his _permission_ to trust him?

"Yes, sir" he whispered.

"And do you trust yourself?"

Don't ask that, Tim thought. Please don't ask me that.

"I don't know."

"Then we're not done yet." Gibbs replied calmly. He raised the belt and gave Tim another three strokes before pausing again.

"Well, Tim?"

Tim was crying openly now. "Yes," he gasped between sobs.

"Then say it."

"It's enough. I trust myself." Tim honestly hoped that saying the words would make it true. He would try, he really would.

"I believe you."

Gibbs tossed the belt aside and helped Tim over to the cot where they both sat down, McGee wincing as he hit the thin mattress. Gibbs placed his hand on Tim's back and held it there supportively while Tim struggled to bring his breathing back to normal. When his body had stilled sufficiently, Gibbs removed his hand and Tim felt a wave of sadness at its absence.

"Boss?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"Do you really believe me?"

"McGee…" Gibbs started warningly, but his tone was gentle.

"Do you?" Tim couldn't help himself. He needed to hear the answer.

"Yes, I do."

Tim silently absorbed this for a minute. He suddenly knew that something had changed inside him and he felt calm.

"I'm going to be OK. You can trust me."

"I know I can. I told you that last time, Tim."

"Yes, but this time I know it too."

Gibbs put his hand on his agent's shoulder, and Tim relished the moment of closeness that he knew would be over all too soon.


End file.
